Cute
by MercuryPilgrim
Summary: Alice is, for once, left with nothing to do, leaving her to turn her mind to introspection in order to occupy her time. She focuses on her relationship with the clockmaker, the little things, and his relative comfortableness compared to a cinderblock. Alice/Julius. Shameless fluff.


_Disclaimer: _I do not own _Alice in the Country of Hearts_ or any of its affiliates. Anything that you recognise is property of its respective owners. Any relations to persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

_Music used for inspiration:_

_Authors Note:_ I love the Wonderful Wonderland series, and must admit that (like everyone who read/played it), I have my favourites. I want to spend a day with Elliot, hang out with Boris, have a girly afternoon with Vivaldi, and I think I might damn near maul Julius.

I am also going by the manga, since I regrettably have never played the game, since I cannot speak Japanese.

* * *

Alice Liddell, to her annoyance, was bored.

It was a rare time when Alice was left with nothing to do; being as she was the sort of person who viewed a day spent doing nothing as a day wasted. She supposed that was one of the reasons she got on so well with the clockmaker, who took 'workaholic' to whole new levels.

Being that as it was, she was left being unable to help him (as even _he_ could only require so much coffee), and would then decide to venture off to one of the other domains in order to occupy herself. She might visit the Castle and aid Vivaldi, while dodging Peter and bumping into Ace while he stumbled around, often in the wrong direction.

She may feel like a bit of fun, and head to the amusement park to while away some time with Boris or help out Gowland.

It wasn't as often she found herself in the Hatters mansion, as Blood always made her feel a little small and nervous (while also falling to the dubious category of 'sexually dangerous'), which – as one might imagine- she did not always appreciate. She liked him well enough, but only when she was in the right mood. It was nice to spend some time with the twins however (when they weren't slipping into their distinctive forms of psychopathy), as well as Elliot, who was always happy to give her something to do to help him.

That afternoon, however, she found herself with absolutely nothing to do.

She was standing out in the open air on the balcony of the clock tower, sighing like a north wind and grumpily running through all the things should _could_ be doing, but wasn't.

Vivaldi was currently irritable, and both unpleasant and possibly dangerous to be around for whatever reason, which made Peter all the more clingy. Alice personally suspected that the Queen was tired and bored, which led to beheadings.

Alice didn't want to be around for those.

The Hatter's mansion would have been her next choice, as she hadn't seen Elliot or Blood in a while, but had been sorrowfully turned away by the twins, who regretfully informed her that Blood was on the warpath after some plan or another had abominably failed, and it would be best if she came back later.

Alice privately agreed, not wanting to be around the changeable mafia boss when he was in one of his _moods._

That left the amusement park. She had gotten there, only to be greeted with hurriedly put up signs that loudly announced a concert. She had taken one look at the garish signs, imagined Gowland and a captive audience, and promptly turned around and left.

This lead to her current predicament, bored and not a little cold on the balcony of the place she spent most of her time anyway.

She wanted to go inside and pester Julius, but was painfully aware that she would likely be annoying in her current mood.

Despite having an intimate relationship with the clockmaker, she was not totally immune to his misanthropic nature, or the often abrasive manner of the gloomy savant.

She sighed.

She was feeling a little melancholic, which always made her thoughtful.

Now, her mind drifted back to a time when she was less than certain about her feelings. She was not too ashamed to admit that she was torn between two men, not really sure which one to choose. She had been worrying herself sick, so much so that both of the aforementioned men had noticed.

Blood Dupre and Julius Monrey were, to all intents and purposes, almost polar opposites.

She scowled and bit the inside of her cheek. It hadn't helped that both of them were gorgeous. That just wasn't fair on a girl.

She wondered on occasion what would have happened if she had chosen Blood back then, and found it hard to imagine.

The more she thought about it, the more she realised that there _were_ similarities between the two, even few as they were.

The foremost was their slight physical similarity. It extended only towards the fact that both of them were slender, fair skinned and dark haired, but it was enough for Alice to notice.

Blood, at least, looked mildly healthier than the clockmaker, if only because he actually went _outside_.

The mafia boss wore a constant smirk, slick charm rolling off him in waves. Refined and gentlemanly, yet managing to pull off the 'bad boy' aura with impunity, he made for a very attractive, charismatic package.

Huffing, her breath casting moisture over dry lips, Alice admitted that his almost frightening resemblance to _that man_ had hardly repulsed her.

Julius, on the other hand, had no such charisma. Alice let a small, amused smile cross her face. Socially awkward did not even _begin_ to describe the clockmaker, whose regular contact with people had consisted of a few muttered words on the occasion he ventured out of the tower, and Ace (who was wont to babble endlessly and not allow the other half of a conversation a word in edgeways). The clockmaker did not have the magnetism that the mafia boss had, but Alice did not deny that he had his own awkward charm. 'Awkward' being the operative word.

Still, she couldn't imagine Blood ever being 'sweet'. She rather liked the idea of a man who could be sweet, and Julius definitely had that covered, despite his grumpy, business-like exterior.

Alice smiled slightly, they wouldn't appreciate her musing on their similarities.

Besides, she thought with a mischievous grin, she liked Julius' long hair better than Bloods spiky mane. Although the clockmaker might complain and grumble, he always gave in when she wanted to play with his hair, and she secretly thought he rather enjoyed it when she did.

In the end, it all boiled down to one small fact that had come to her on an evening much like the one she was currently observing.

Maybe most girls liked the idea of a 'bad boy' (and even Alice couldn't deny that she saw the appeal), but Alice had never really conformed to the whims and fancies of her fellow females. Her practical, logical mind decided that while it would be wonderful to be treated like a princess while Blood was in a good mood, she would always be waiting for the moment the charm slipped.

Maybe it never would, she mused, but she would worry about it nonetheless. Blood was perfection on the surface, but his centre was less than faultless.

Julius, on the other hand, was the very opposite. Grumpy and cold –often bordering on rude- on the surface, he was sweet underneath it all.

She smiled, a slight blush dusting her cheeks a pale pink.

She liked the little things. She liked the way he fell asleep on his desk, and woke up with marks on his face from his glasses. She liked the way he played with his earring when he was taking an elusive break, because he hated to have his hands be still. She found it nice when he took one of her hands in his larger ones awkwardly, because he still wasn't that confident initiating touch. She enjoyed it when he let his hair down out of the long tail he usually kept it in, because it was even longer than hers and such a pretty colour. She adored it when he went red with embarrassment when she flirted with him, or when she sat herself unceremoniously in his lap if she wanted some attention.

She giggled softly to herself, feeling much better than she had an hour ago.

Biting her lip and noticing how cold she had become, she turned to head back inside and fix herself a cup of tea to warm up.

Stepping through the door, she glanced up and saw the man she had just been musing on standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking very out of place.

He blinked at her sudden appearance.

"Alice." He stated, as though he was surprised to see her, which he shouldn't have been since he had been fully aware she was outside. "I was just about to come and get you."

Alice smiled, although her fingers and toes were numb.

"I noticed." She teased, earning a slight frown. "Do you want some coffee?"

He crossed over to her, and she noticed he had shed his heavy overcoat, leaving him in his shirt and waistcoat.

To her surprise, he shook his head.

"No thank you, I just finished a cup." She noticed his eyes drift downward to her hands, and saw a crease appear in his brow. "Your hands. They're white."

Without waiting for a reply, which was the polite thing to do, he reached out and took both her hands in his, scowling when he felt how cold they were.

"Sit." He ordered, indicating the small couch in the room. "I will make tea."

He dropped her hands without preamble, looking at her expectantly.

She snorted softly and leaned in, kissing him on the cheek.

"Aye Captain." She teased, brushing past his figure and doing as she was bid.

She didn't turn around, but she could imagine the faint dusting of pink on his cheeks, and his silent mutters about something she couldn't make out.

That. _That_ was what was so appealing, she thought as she made herself comfortable on the sofa. She would bet her bottom dollar that Blood would never let himself be caught off guard like that, or let her see him flustered.

She heard the whistling of the kettle in the kitchen, and the sound of someone pottering around. She snuggled into the squashy material of the piece of furniture she was lounging on and wondered what it was like when she wasn't in the tower. No-one would be there to hear the sounds of the kettle boiling, and background noise of the lone man moving clutter and bustling around his little kitchen. The thought made her sad. The idea of this happening day in and day out, for _years_, made her feel very sorry for the clockmaker. No one to make coffee for him, no one for him to make tea for or to throw together a quick meal for because she had fallen asleep and he had barely anything in his pantry again.

Feeling herself falling into melancholy again, she forced herself out of it.

She was here now, and she had no intention of leaving.

She was brought back to reality by a small nudge on her arm. She looked up to see the impassive face of her clockmaker looking down at her, a mug of steaming tea in one hand and the other that he had used to break her out of her reverie. She smiled and thanked him, taking the scalding mug from his hands. He made to walk back to his desk and no doubt carry on his work, but she whipped out a hand and caught the sleeve of his shirt, tugging on it and using her eyes to tell him to sit with her.

He sighed, mumbled a protest about 'distractions' and 'work' and made a very put upon face, but complied without argument. She grinned and set her tea to one side to cool before snuggling into his side.

Grumbling slightly, he lifted an arm to wrap her in a loose, one armed hug before shifting to make himself comfortable.

She grinned again, being perfectly happy to sit like this for an eternity.

She shifted.

She shifted again.

The clockmaker tutted.

Alice wiggled and frowned.

The blue haired man sighed. "Alice, what are you doing?"

The brunette looked up at him and sent an accusing look his way.

"You're surprisingly uncomfortable." She said reprovingly, as though his relative comfortableness in regards to a cinderblock was his fault.

He raised an eyebrow in perfect Julius fashion.

"I would apologise, if that were in any way my fault. If I am so uncomfortable, I suggest you find a pillow." He deadpanned, sounding not in the least bit compassionate.

Alice huffed.

"_You're_ my pillow. You're very unsympathetic, you know." She chastised.

"It's one of my best qualities."

She poked him in the ribs, and was rewarded when he jerked and made a noise like a startled cat.

She snorted in a very unladylike fashion.

"It's a quality, that's for sure. 'Best' is debatable though." She snarked, and wriggled some more, trying to find a position that was comfortable on the slender clockmaker.

A familiar long suffering expression gracing his face, Julius let himself be manhandled. No good would come of outwardly complaining, he knew, even though her twisting his arm was getting distinctly uncomfortable.

He drew the line when she tugged on his arm a little too hard, and he hissed, snatching his arm back from her grasp. She looked put out, sea eyes looking at his reproachfully, and he had to stop himself from giving in. She had that power over him, and if he didn't like her so much, he would have disliked the feeling.

She was getting grabby with him again, and it was making him uncomfortable. He felt his cheeks heat up, and cursed his stupid blood flow.

"Please stop molesting me." He sighed.

Alice sucked in a surprised breath, before grinning and ignoring the flush covering her own cheeks.

She reached up and, ignoring his scowl and cantankerous muttering, pinched his cheek. He jerked out of her reach, mumbling about how she was being 'extra annoying'.

"You're such a grump." She sighed. "A grumpy, shut in misanthrope is what you are."

He turned his head to the side in embarrassment, wanting very much to just disappear from this situation. Oh. What if she started crying? What was he supposed to do? Last time she'd cried, he'd tried to give her a hug and only ended up half suffocating her. What if she got up and left? What if-

"Stop that."

He blinked and snapped back into reality at the sound of her voice. She had moved again without him noticing, and had managed to manoeuvre herself into sitting half sprawled on his lap. She was looking into his face with unnerving focus, and he began to feel extremely self-conscious.

He opened his mouth to let out an awkward apology, sure that he'd insulted her beyond the usual.

Instead she decided to take the initiative and press her lips to his, silencing his apology with a kiss. He kissed back, and she could feel his eyelashes brushing against her skin.

Alice was very pleased with herself, having successfully navigated the minefield that was a self-conscious clockmaker.

Pulling back from the kiss with a smile, she felt it widen and she looked his bewildered expression.

Blood would never have been this cute. She told him so.

"You're very cute, you know." She informed him simply, shifting and finally finding a comfortably position in which to settle herself.

She felt him move his arms into a loose hug (he never hugged her very tightly, clearly remembering that _last_ time), and heard his sullen mutter.

She prodded him.

"Yes, you are. It's good thing, I like it."

More muttering.

"I know it's a stupid word. You are though, even if you're a bad tempered gloom cloud."

She reached up and lazily began playing with the ribbon the held his hair. He let her, his eyes drooping.

"Go to sleep." She commanded.

"I have work." His reply was so utterly Julius that she had to sigh.

"You need to _sleep._ You look like you're about to keel over and die." She ignored his protest and carried on. "Remember that time you fell asleep on your desk and you woke up with your glasses imprinted on your face? Or that time when I found you on the _floor_?"

Since he couldn't deny that these things had indeed occurred, and far too used to the brand of arguing he and Alice engaged in, he stayed silent.

She tugged at his hair lightly.

"Come on, let's go to bed while it's still night." It was a testament to how much she had gotten used to this word that the wording didn't even phase her.

"I still have clocks to-"

She scowled.

"Are you really saying you would rather be down here working by yourself instead of sleeping next to me?"

Alarm bells started going off in the clockmakers head, as even as socially awkward as the he was, even he had the inbuilt 'male sense' that told him when he was treading in dangerous waters with a woman.

It wasn't very reliable, and often got him into trouble, but it was there. Mostly.

"… No."

She huffed. "Good."

She pressed a quick kiss to his mouth and got off him, making him miss her weight and warmth.

Reluctantly, he arose from the sofa, and with one last longing glance at his desk (and the unfinished clocks on it), made to follow her to the ladder that led to the bedroom. Her tea lay forgotten on the table.

It was some time later when she had felt him slide into bed sometime after she had slipped under the covers. She cuddled closer, feeling a little cold, and nestled her head under his jaw, hands fisting the material of his nightshirt.

She could hear his breathing even out and smiled slightly, happy that he was resting for once.

She heard him mumble something that could have been a _'goodnight_', but could also have been a '_stop breathing on me'_.

She smiled again and cuddled closer.

Yes, she found she rather liked 'cute'.

* * *

_Done and done! I've infected a friend with the Wonderland series. The fandom have started to move. It has begun. This was written because myself and her had a bet that I couldn't write an Alice/Julius fanfic before one in the morning (the bet starting at eleven). If I won, she had to make me tea for a whole week._

_I won._


End file.
